Weapon Register

In the imperial capital of Dashun. High upon a terrace that pierced the clouds, an attendant official rushed forward the instant a shift occurred upon the scroll known to the world as the Weapon Register. This was the Siwang Terrace. True to its name, it was the imperial department charged with publishing the Weapon Register and overseeing renowned figures across the realm. Within the court, its standing was uniquely transcendent. To the officials of the Siwang Terrace, the rising and falling of titled martial masters on the Weapon Register and the shifting of their ranks was utterly commonplace. Such movements occurred nearly every day. In fact, one could say this was the very reason the Weapon Register existed: to spur the realm's martial artists into spontaneous infighting. After all, life in this mortal world boiled down to fame and fortune. Moreover, the simplest and most efficient path to becoming a titled martial master had always been the Weapon Register; not a single martial artist under heaven failed to covet a place upon it. And the rankings on the Weapon Register were determined solely by strength. It was pure survival of the fittest. The stronger rose to the top. Once a martial artist made it onto the register, renown gathered around them, granting divine intent, which in turn allowed them to hone their might even further. As for the method of ascending the register, it was largely uniform. One simply sought out one of the lowest-ranked titled martial masters on the register, then found a way to slay them through ambushes, sneak attacks, or similar means. If successful, one replaced the victim's rank. Advancing further depended on the martial artist's mental cultivation, innate talent, and comprehension—whether they could nurture stronger divine intent with their limited renown. Yet as the saying went, all beginnings were difficult. A heaven-blessed prodigy might rely on raw talent to advance swiftly up the ranks, but to step onto the register in the first place, the first hurdle was always defeating the strong from a position of weakness. If one could not cross that threshold, even the most dazzling genius meant nothing. Because of this, when the officials of the Siwang Terrace clearly saw the new shift in the Weapon Register, they were struck speechless by an inexplicable, overwhelming shock. "Wang Ping... thirty-seventh?" "Has this person ever appeared before?" "Never!" "Xu Bingzheng's name is gone... Wait, he was ranked three hundred forty-second. If this Wang Ping killed him, shouldn't he have merely taken his place?" "Why did he rocket straight to thirty-seventh?" The officials looked at one another in bewilderment. Finally, someone raised a hand and muttered in a low voice, "Could it be that the Weapon Register judged his victory over Xu Bingzheng to be far too effortless?" "Strictly speaking, the Weapon Register is also a weapon, and an artifact of divine caliber at that. It is by no means an inanimate object. It possesses its own criteria for evaluating martial artists. If a newly ranked martial artist's strength vastly exceeds that of the titled master he slew, the register will adjust his standing upward at its discretion..." Before the words had finished settling, someone immediately objected: "You said it yourself—at its discretion! Moving up a few places, or ten or twenty at the very most, would be the absolute limit. How could anyone leap straight to thirty-seventh?" "Not even the disciples of the Shenlong Temple are that absurd!" "The top one hundred and eight form the Mortal Ranking, the top thirty-six form the Earth Ranking, and the top five form the Heaven Ranking. Thirty-seventh is already the pinnacle of the Mortal Ranking!" Just then, an elder with graying hair finally spoke up: "If that is the case, let us take a look." "Open the Weapon Register and see how this Wang Ping actually slew Xu Bingzheng. Only then can we assign him a fitting title." Take Xu Bingzheng's Immortal's Rope, or Li Yiran's Mountains and Rivers Brush, for example. Earning a place on the Weapon Register was merely the first step. For a titled martial master, the emphasis lay on the title itself, which had to correspond to the master's favored weapon and fighting style. Before long, led by the elder, several officials of the Siwang Terrace took their positions. They pinched hand seals simultaneously, and the Weapon Register suspended high above the terrace stirred at once. Layers of brilliant radiance blossomed across the scroll, slowly converging toward the spot bearing Wang Ping's name. Soon, the radiance took shape. The officials focused their attention, some even bringing out paper and brush in preparation to record. After all, this was an upset where the lower defeated the higher; it surely must have been a grueling, protracted battle. Their duty was to analyze. From the combat replay displayed by the Weapon Register, they had to discern this newcomer's fighting style, favored weapon, internal force, and even any fatal weaknesses... "Here it comes!" Finally, the light solidified. What appeared upon it was precisely the scene of Wang Ping battering Xu Bingzheng to death. The perspective was even framed through Xu Bingzheng's own eyes, accompanied by a descriptive text below: *Wang Ping threw a punch. Xu Bingzheng sensed it in advance through divine intent, deploying the Immortal's Rope to obstruct, internal force to defend, and blood qi to protect his body.* *Xu Bingzheng died.* In the end, the projection froze on the last sight Xu Bingzheng had witnessed: an immense fist magnified countless times, towering like an imposing mountain. "...That's it?" The corner of the leading elder's eye twitched slightly. Behind him, the crowd of officials stared wide-eyed at one another. So Xu Bingzheng had literally been punched to death in a single blow? Was he really that pathetic? After a moment of silence, the elder formed the hand seal once more, having the Weapon Register replay the scene to ensure the images were correct and the artifact had not malfunctioned. "Incredible." Full of wonder, the elder let out a long breath. "No internal force, no weapon. An external martial artist killed a titled martial master with a single punch." "This Wang Ping likely possesses the talent of a thaumaturge." At these words, an official immediately chimed in, "Your Excellency is perceptive. It must have been an oversight on the part of the Fangxian Dao that allowed such a person to slip through their fingers." "Not necessarily an oversight." Another person pointed at Wang Ping in the projection. "Do you see his physique? Muscles like steel, vitality like fire. That is the Thirteen Taipo Horizontal Training Hard Qi Art." "Eight chances out of ten, he belongs to the Enshrinement Hall." At this remark, expressions of understanding washed over everyone's faces. "The Enshrinement Hall! That explains it. The Grand Enshrined must have snatched him away from the Fangxian Dao, intending to groom him into a new enshrined expert." "If so, how should his title be decided?" The elder felt a slight headache and sighed helplessly. "Why is a young talent from the Enshrinement Hall meddling with the Weapon Register? Don't they have their own titles?" "It is likely just a transition," an official guessed. "After all, he is only at the top of the Mortal Ranking, not yet qualified for an Enshrinement Hall title. Perhaps he came to our Weapon Register first to accustom himself?" "That is plausible." "Eh?" Just then, an official holding a dossier let out a surprised cry. "This Wang Ping actually hails from the capital—he is a member of the gold-bearing armed cavalry!" "What?" At this revelation, several people crowded around to examine the textual records below the Weapon Register. Once they verified it, their expressions turned even more conflicted. After a brief silence, one proposed, "He fights with bare fists and appears disinclined toward weapons, which suggests a reckless style. Yet he possesses an adamantine, horizontally trained body. In my view, why not call him..." "Perish the thought!" another official objected at once. "A young talent valued by the Enshrinement Hall, and an armed cavalryman to boot—how could we emphasize a reckless style? It sounds terrible. We need something elegant and profound that also highlights his status, so the palace can save face." "Then what should we write for his cultivation realm? An external martial artist?" "What else?" "Wouldn't that seem too exaggerated?" "Exaggeration is all the better! It isn't a lie anyway, and it will serve nicely to dupe some reckless fools into thinking someone got lucky, tempting them to go and challenge him." At this point, the Siwang Terrace officials spoke with chilling indifference. "True enough. They are merely jianghu martial artists. The more of them die, the more peaceful the realm will be. Otherwise, why would Emperor Taizu have gone to such great lengths to forge the Weapon Register back then?" "..." After much deliberation, the elder finally made the call, penning an addition before Wang Ping's name to serve as the title for gathering renown: Dragon Fist. "This man killed Xu Bingzheng with three punches; his strength is bound to be extraordinary. As the saying goes, the pinnacle of strength lies in true dragon sinews. Since he relies on his fists, this name is most fitting." "Moreover, the word 'Dragon' carries imperial connotations, suiting an armed cavalryman perfectly." The elder stroked his beard and smiled, clearly pleased with the title he had chosen. Raising his brush, he smoothly penned it before Wang Ping's name. Almost simultaneously, across all the key prefectures and commanderies of the empire, every subsidiary copy of the Weapon Register published by the court resonated, and the inscriptions upon them began to shift. Thus, less than a quarter of an hour after Xu Bingzheng's death, the name of the new first rank of the Mortal Ranking, Dragon Fist Wang Ping, spread north and south of the great river through the Weapon Register, becoming known to all across the Central Plains. *** Meanwhile, within Longxing County. "Who are you?!" Li Yiran stared in terror at the valiant youth before him, his entire body tense. It felt as though he were facing not a man, but a ravenous, primordial beast. Not only had he failed to notice anything or save Xu Bingzheng the moment the youth struck Xu dead, but his cultivation realm was also higher than Xu Bingzheng's. While Xu Bingzheng had only faintly sensed danger, Li Yiran could clearly perceive just how catastrophic that danger was. *He cannot be matched!* Li Yiran took a step back, feeling a stabbing pain between his brows. His divine intent circulated throughout his frame, driving every muscle and droplet of blood to wail in agony. *Run! I can't win!* *I will die!* Right at that moment, an indescribable, terrifying surge of renown descended across the void, causing Wang Ping—who was about to deal with Li Yiran—to freeze on the spot. "Hm?" This was precisely the renown granted by ranking thirty-seventh on the Weapon Register. Stimulated by it, Wang Ping felt his consciousness momentarily drawn out of his body. He forgot both self and surroundings; everything in the external world seemed detached from him. To put it more vividly, it was as if an extra eye had opened above his head, allowing him not only to examine his own body from an entirely new perspective, but even to adjust his perceived flow of time at will. *Is this... divine intent?* Wang Ping widened his eyes in disbelief. This was a sensory faculty similar to spiritual sense, yet distinctly different—almost like a form of pure intuition. More importantly, it could reach the microscopic. Closing his eyes, Wang Ping could seemingly hear the rush of blood through his veins, the churning of his internal organs, and even the pulsing dilation and contraction of his acupoints, allowing him to control them with pinpoint precision! *Divine intent... so this is divine intent.* *No wonder Xu Bingzheng seemed so formidable earlier. Even when I launched a sneak attack with a punch, he was able to sense the danger beforehand and mount a defense.* *Even if it was useless in the end.* Still, that was because Xu Bingzheng was inadequate, not because divine intent was flawed. This intuitive perception born from reality was truly exceptional! *As divine intent grows, it can even make up for the shortcomings of spiritual sense. After all, spiritual sense typically relies on tangible changes in reality. When danger looms, spiritual sense can still be deceived, whereas an abstract intuitive perception like divine intent can sound an alarm in time.* At this thought, Wang Ping was pleasantly surprised. To be frank, he had almost lost interest in Dashun's martial path and was prepared to focus entirely on immortal cultivation. But after experiencing divine intent firsthand, he changed his mind. *Practicing martial arts still has a future after all.* A moment later, Wang Ping relaxed. His detached consciousness returned, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Li Yiran fleeing for his life. "Hmph, trying to run?" Sneering, Wang Ping stepped forward. Instantly, his divine intent engaged. Time seemed to slow, yet his own movement remained unaffected, swiftly closing the distance between him and the distant, fleeing Li Yiran. "Y-you cannot kill me!" Sensing the crisis looming from behind, Li Yiran whipped his head around. His divine intent vibrated, transmitting his voice directly into Wang Ping's mind through mental resonance. This was the art of voice transmission that only titled martial masters could employ. Silent and without any physical sign, it communicated purely through divine intent, prompting a sudden flash of insight in the recipient and painting the spoken words directly through intuition. "You are of the gold-bearing armed cavalry, aren't you!" "I recognized your uniform—it's tailor-made for the armed cavalry... And you must hold a military tally. Only then would Wu Xintai dare mobilize troops!" With his life on the line, Li Yiran's thoughts were sharper than ever before. "I know you must be carrying an imperial edict, which gave you the nerve to act. But let me tell you, even with an imperial edict, you cannot slaughter a county magistrate indiscriminately!" "I did not kill a county magistrate," Wang Ping said indifferently. "Xu Bingzheng colluded with the White Lotus rebels and plotted treason, a heinous crime. I am leading troops to suppress a rebellion; everything is entirely justified." "Absurd!" Li Yiran ground his teeth. "Where is your proof?" "The White Lotus Sect Master Shouchong stated it himself," Wang Ping remarked casually. "Besides, when I moved against him just now, my intention was merely to question him. Yet he dared to strike back, which clearly proves his guilty conscience." Li Yiran: "..." *This is an outrage against Heaven!* Endless fury flared in Li Yiran's heart, but looking at Xu Bingzheng's headless corpse, he forced it down and continued transmitting his voice through divine intent to buy time: "Even taking ten thousand steps back, even if Xu Bingzheng were suspected, he should be detained for trial!" "As the saying goes, penal codes do not apply to scholar-officials!" If it were those common soldiers, their deaths would matter little. But Xu Bingzheng was a student of the Imperial Academy and a seventh-rank county magistrate! Even if such an official were discovered committing a misdeed, it ought to be handled privately: three cups of wine as punishment for a minor offense, demotion or transfer for a severe one, and in the absolute worst case, expulsion back to his ancestral home. He should never have been killed—least of all at the hands of a common soldier! "This breaks the rules!" Li Yiran knew full well how to manipulate emotions. His mental transmission dripped with utter contempt, aiming to stoke Wang Ping's rage and make him lose his reason. Once reason was lost, divine intent would fall into disarray. Only then could he carve out a chance to survive. Yet what chilled his heart was that Wang Ping's divine intent was not shaken in the slightest by his provocation. Instead, it drew tighter and tighter around him, like an unyielding noose. "This ends here." As the voice rang out amidst the wailing of his intuition, Li Yiran could not help but turn his head. All he saw was a fist as massive as a mountain filling his entire field of vision. *Mount Tai crushing from above... Is this Mount Tai crushing from above?* *Boom!*